CHAPTER 3: Is this a joke?

Jazz’s POV

“Excuse me? What?” are the only words that come out of my mouth. What the actual fuck?

Chase Atlantic’s ‘Meddle about’ comes on the car radio, making the air in the car grow tighter, tenser. My body tightens in response.

Zeke is unperturbed by my outrage. “You heard me, what do you say?”

I can’t believe this. I take a quick look around. Maybe Mr. Green had actually succeeded in choking me to death and this is hell ‘cause this can’t be real. He can’t be real right now.

I peer into his eyes to see if he’s serious. A quiet tremor runs down my spine when our eyes meet. He’s actually dripping with unfiltered desire.

His eyes are still so intense, pure gray and gleaming. He couldn’t hide his true emotions even if he tried. I see myself reflected in those gleaming intense eyes.

He is a controlled man. Nothing about him screams indecision. Including his request. I am taken aback by how serious he sounds, and stunned.

Only a man like Zeke Knight can boldly make this offer to a literal stranger. It’s almost as if he knows he will not be rejected. How arrogant!

“Are you kidding me?” I ask again when I finally find my voice.

“No, Jazz, I want to fuck you and I want to compensate you handsomely for it,” Zeke persists.

His voice is steady, steely. He knows what he wants and he’s asking politely for it but I get the sense he might not be so polite later in bed.

I flush with a wave of shameless interest.

Suddenly, the car seems too small for us. The space between us is practically nonexistent. There’s too much of him here, I can’t escape it.

The only way to regain control of myself is to…lose my shit. Or at least, pretend I’m not intrigued by his offer.

“Are you insane? Is this a fucking joke?” I scream, nearly drowning out the voice of the band on the radio.

"My, my, my, so hostile. And what are we gonna do about that mouth of yours, princess?” Zeke chants, undisturbed by my tantrums. A small smirk can be found on the corner of his mouth.

My chest is rising and falling with an unsteady rhythm, my heart beating faster than I can handle. I’m afraid it’ll burst soon.

“I can’t be your whore, Zeke. This is crazy. You don’t even know me. We just met,” I say.

He raises a finger in the air. “Correction, you’ve only just met me. I’ve known you for a while now.”

I stare in disbelief. “What? How long have you been watching me? What the hell?”

He smiles, his eyes roaming all over me slowly. “That doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is my offer.”

"You can't make me!" I try to voice confidently but my voice falters.

"Everyone's got a price, princess."

"Not me!"

His calf brushes against mine. I feel it, that magnetic pull between us.

It’s almost tangible, almost threatening to crash all around us.

I can see it in his eyes, the way they’ve narrowed and concentrated on me with powerful force, and in the way I press my thighs together to stop the fluids escaping onto my panties, wetting me up.

It’s useless, I’m already wet.

“You need to let me out of this car,” I say in desperation.

I don’t trust myself around him. I don’t know what I’m gonna do if we stay here any second longer.

My voice is full of panic because the only thing I truly wanted him to do is to grab my hair, slam his lips against mine, and slip his fingers down there.

I don’t understand this feeling; I don’t know what’s going on because I’m supposed to be telling him to fuck off. But I can’t suppress the panic stirring inside me. I’ve never been so drawn to a man like this before.

This feeling shouldn’t exist. I’ve only read about this in my silly eroticas, fanfics, and the romance novels/movies I consume. I never thought this would become my reality.

My jaws twitches. I shouldn’t be flattered by a man offering to pay to sleep with me. I am not his whore!

“Fifty thousand dollars,” comes Zeke’s emphatic voice, breaking through my panicked thoughts.

I blink. “What?”

“I’ll pay you 50k for the night.”

My mouth hangs open. Is he serious? 50K? Despite myself, my mouth waters at the offer.

That amount will definitely solve all my problems right now: my rent, my sister’s rehab fees, my bills, all of it, and still have plenty left over for my empty savings account. It could literally change my entire life.

“Oh, come on, Jazz, I know you need it,” Zeke adds arrogantly.

My skin prickles. “What?”

He leans closer. “I know you need the money.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you’re behind on your rent and your landlord’s evicting you soon,” Zeke adds.

I can’t even begin to imagine how he knew that. “So, you know I don’t have time to waste here. I need to get back to work.”

“You are really going to turn down 50k just for the minimum wage you are earning?”

“Yeah, because I have self-respect and I am not a whore! You want a whore? Go down to the whorehouse!” I snap at him furiously

He merely smiles, reaching out a hand to touch my lower thigh.

I freeze, paralyzed.

He trails his fingers along my skin. “Don’t degrade yourself, Jazz. If I wanted a whore, I wouldn’t even look in your direction.”

“What do you call this then?”

“A sexual agreement.”

“Otherwise known as whoring,” I rebuff.

He moves his hand to the inside of my thigh, rubbing gently.

My breath hitches. A small tremor makes my body shake imperceptibly.

Fuck.

I prayed he wouldn’t notice my shaking body but nothing escapes his attention. I can already see that smirk on his face.

“Are your tantrums a way of hiding the fact that you want this too?” Zeke asks, brushing his fingers against my thighs gently.

My mouth opens to respond, but I can’t make the words come out. My mouth has dried out.

Zeke reaches over and pulls the headband tying my hair together so that my hair would fall all over my face.

“There…that’s so much better,” he whispers heatedly.

His closeness lights a fire inside me. Close enough, I can smell him. I take a deep breath.

“You are so irresistible, Jazz. You are invaluable but I’d give you my whole net worth just to spend one night with you. I'm not demeaning you, consider the money an incentive, evidence of my desire for you, evidence of the lengths I'd go for just a moment of your time,” he murmurs.

I can’t breathe. My name comes out of his mouth like fine wine. Smooth, sexy, seductive. I want to hear him whimper in my ears, moaning my name over and over.

His hand traveling higher up my thighs till he reaches my panties. He feels around my panties and smiles broadly.

“Hmm. You are wet already,” he moans.

Shit. My stupid body has betrayed me!

He pulls my panties to the side, feeling my wetness.

I can’t move. I can’t leave. I can’t do shit, because I didn’t want him to stop. I’m pretty sure my desire is written all my over and my eyes are begging him to fuck me.

“You’ve got five seconds, Jazz. You have five seconds to leave before I lose my mind. Tell me to stop. Tell me to stop and I’ll stop this car right now,” he whimpers breathlessly.

My heart is racing fast. I can’t hear myself think from all the blood rushing in my ears. I need to tell him to stop.

I need to get the fuck out of his car…but…shit…. I’m so weak. I can’t. I want him. I want him so badly.

“Five, four, three…” he begins to count.

I can’t speak. The words wouldn’t come out. The music on the radio changes as if on cue.

On one, he closes the distance between us, aiming for my lips, as Beyonce’s voice in ‘PARTITION’ starts to serenade us.

I’m so glad for the music because I can’t have him hearing the gasp that just escaped from my lips.